I climb out of my car and head toward Camden’s window. It’s really late, and I see his mom’s car in the driveway. If she’s asleep, I don’t want to wake her up. I knock softly on his window and wait.

Moments later, my cranky best friend appears, lifting the window and scowling at me—his light brown hair mussed, like he was probably sleeping, and a crease in his brow. “What the hell, Wells?”

I chuckle because even though he’s a cantankerous bastard, he still uses my last name with affection. “Let me in.”

“You’re going to wake Lucy or my mom.”

“Not if you don’t put up a fight. Let me in. It’s cold as balls out here.” His eyes roll, like they often do at me, but then he backs away from the window with a sigh to let me climb in. When I stand up before him, I see he’s shirtless and only wearing a pair of black boxer briefs, which he always wears to bed. “Sleeping?”

“I didn’t get off work until ten-thirty. What do you think?” He picks up odd jobs around town to help his mom out with money, and lately he’s been working at the local grocery store.

“I think the store closes at ten. Every night.”

He rolls his eyes again, flicking on the side lamp on his nightstand and lying down on his bed, clearly beat. “Helped stock shelves for a bit. What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were with Kenn.”

“Yeah, we kinda got into it.” I take a seat on the edge of his bed, and he snorts.

“Shocking.”

I raise my middle finger as I pull my hoodie off over my head and toss it onto his desk chair. “You going to college?” I blurt out the question that’s plaguing me.

His green eyes narrow in my direction, full of confusion. “I applied to some places, sure. I don’t know if I’ll get in, but my grades are decent.”

Decent, hell. He’s a straight-A student and always has been. “Really?” I ask, the hurt soaking through me, and I don’t even know why or if I have the right to feel that way at all.

“You haven’t?” He looks shocked.

“What about my C-average record would tell you I’d be cut out for college?”

He shrugs, pulling his covers up as he sits up to look at me better. “I thought maybe a football scholarship or something. You could do it.”

“I don’t want to,” I answer quickly because I don’t. College has never even crossed my mind. My parents don’t talk about it. My teachers don’t. And Camden and I never have either.

“Okay . . .” He still looks confused, and my heart squeezes tight in my chest at the thought of him leaving.